


There's something about Misha

by KitsuneArashi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant!Castiel, Carpenter!Dean, M/M, Misha is a Cat, butt plugs?, deancas-sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuneArashi/pseuds/KitsuneArashi
Summary: Dean spends his evening with his hot new neighbor, helping him replace the front door to his apartment and generally being a nice guy, but there's just something weird going on with Castiel's cat, Misha.Written for the 2017 Dean/Cas Hey, Sweetheart challenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So a friend tagged me in the comments of a picture of a cat with [ a butt covering that looked like a butt-plug](http://twinkletush.com/) and challenged me to write it Destiel style. 
> 
> And well, I’ve been trying to find something to do for this writing challenge, so here we are.
> 
> I googled cat butts for this, enjoy.

  
Dean watched the movers carrying expensive furniture up the creaking wooden staircase of his crappy apartment building. It felt weird to see the, undoubtedly highly paid, furniture movers carrying the exquisite pieces, that likely cost more than his entire month’s mortgage payment, _ plus utilities _ , over the worn carpet and into the tiny apartment across the hall from his own.    
  
Dean wondered how his new neighbor was going to fit everything in there, knowing just how small the apartments in this building actually were. Although, if his new neighbor didn’t change the entire front door to something stronger, it was likely that issue would be rectified within the first week. Break-ins weren’t unheard of in this part of town, and Dean knew that his paranoid whim of putting in a sturdy door with a solid frame and expensive lock, was the only reason he’d been spared. It would simply take too much effort, and make too much noise, to break into Dean’s apartment.   
  
He resolved to swing by after the movers left and let the new neighbor know. If they listened or not wasn’t really Dean’s problem, but he’d feel awful if the new people were robbed and he could have suggested a way to prevent it and didn’t.   
  
It took a few hours for the movers to get everything moved in, apparently his new neighbor had also paid for an unpacking service. Dean had gone to knock on the door as the movers left and had been told that the guy wasn’t even there. Apparently he’d be arriving on a flight from Pontiac, Illinois around seven and had had his things sent on ahead.    
  
Dean stared at the man in shock.  _ What the hell was the guy doing moving to this building, heck  _ this part of town _ , if he could afford to send his expensive shit across the country ahead of him, and pay a team of trained professionals to bring it inside _ and _ unpack for him _ .

The guy laughed at Dean’s dumbfounded look and shrugged in response, “Dunno dude, place we picked his stuff up from was huge. This stuff is actually shabby compared to the things we left behind. Dunno what a guy from a place like  _ that _ is doing moving into a place like  _ this _ .” The guy looked over at Dean quickly, “No offense.”   
  
Dean laughed and shook off his concerned look, “None taken man, this place is a shithole.”

Dean watched as the movers locked up the apartment and left, checking his watch to see how long until the new guy would be arriving. He peered at the dilapidated door to the apartment across the hall, taking in the wonky door handle and cracked frame, and making a snap decision to head out to the hardware store and grab the things this guy would need to secure his new home, such as it was. Dean figured that the guy was clearly loaded and, with what he was saving by purchasing such a shitty place, he could more than afford to reimburse Dean for the cost of the materials.   
  
Decision made he grabbed his keys, yelling out to his overgrown 16 year old brother, who was holed up in his bedroom with his laptop, before leaving, “Sammy I’m going out, keep an eye on the place across the hall, someone just moved in and they’re not home.”   
  
Sam grunted something that may have been an acknowledgement and Dean slammed the door behind him, heading downstairs to the garage, already mentally planning the things he needed to buy. He’d need a door, of course, as well as a sturdy door jam, a decent deadbolt lock and an internal bolt lock as well, and of course some heavy duty hinges so the door couldn’t be jimmied open the other way either.    
  
He unlocked the door to the tenants-only garage and made his way to his spot, running his hand lovingly across the sleek, black finish of his pride and joy, the ‘67 Chevy Impala left to him by his dad. The car was the reason they ended up in this particular crappy apartment building, as opposed to a different one, the lock-up garage with it’s reinforced security door swaying Dean into making a decision to buy here instead of a slightly better apartment with roadside parking. Like hell he was parking Baby on the curb in this neighborhood. Every day he drove past cars up on bricks, wheels removed, and he’d be getting off lucky if that was the only thing that happened to the car, likely she would be stolen entirely.   
  
He patted the side of the Impala longingly before moving on to Sam’s truck, also left to them by their father, much to Sam’s dismay.  _ Why do we need two gas guzzling beasts, Dean?  _ Dean unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat, pointedly ignoring the existence of Sam’s iPod dock and singing to himself instead as he started the truck and drove across town to his favorite hardware store.   
  
It was nearing seven by the time Dean made it back to his apartment building, having taken longer than he expected to find everything he needed and get it loaded into the flatbed of the truck. Plus, he’d also stopped at a drive-thru to grab dinner for himself and Sam.    


He opted to leave the door materials in the truck and just bring the greasy bag of fast food with him back to the apartment. Hew was pleased to see the new guy’s apartment door was intact and undisturbed as he passed it.    
  
“Food’s up, Bitch!” Dean yelled into the apartment as he entered, throwing his keys down and dropping onto the couch with his burger and fries.    
  
Sam shuffled out of his bedroom and grabbed his food off the table, “You didn’t get me a salad, Jerk.”   
  
Dean rolled his eyes and spoke through a mouthful of cheeseburger, “It’s a burger place, Sam, not a salad bar. Next time pay for your own food.”   
  
Sam looked apologetic at the reprimand. “Thanks for dinner, Dean,” he murmured, settling on the couch next to his brother. “So, new neighbor?”    
  
Dean nodded and looked up, swallowing before speaking, “Yeah, haven’t met the guy yet, but I saw the movers bringing his stuff in. He has a lot of nice shit, dude’s gonna wanna secure his place.”   
  
“Oh yeah? Make sure we let him know I guess,” Sam said idly, stuffing fries into his mouth.   
  
“I’m on it,” Dean hedged, checking his watch. “Guy should be arriving soon actually, I’ll go knock after dinner.”   
  
They chatted quietly between themselves as they ate, mostly discussing the old house that Dean was renovating for their late father’s friend, Bobby Singer. Once they were done with their burgers and fries Sam excused himself, claiming to have some homework left to finish before he could sleep. Dean let him go, offering to clean up his trash for him as well, high school sucked and he knew it.

A commotion outside the apartment drew Dean’s attention and he raced out into the hallway, hoping it was his new neighbor, but ready to put a stop to it if it was someone breaking in. He stopped in his tracks as he took in the sight in front of him, reclining against the frame of his open door to watch, bemused.   
  
A man grumbled under his breath, struggling to hold onto a lemon colored cat carrier, a suitcase, and a large tan jacket all at the same time even while he was struggling to unlock his front door. Dean spent a moment taking in the man in front of him: dark hair that was in total disarray, dark jeans that hugged thick, runner’s thighs and drew Dean’s eye to a tight, firm ass. Dean’s gaze dragged upwards, taking in the man’s trim waist and broad shoulders, before he followed the muscled lines of the man’s arm down to where he was fumbling with the keys.   
  
As Dean watched, the man cursed and threw the keys down to the floor in defeat, freeing up his unburdened hand to raise it to grip angrily at his hair with a frustrated groan that made Dean’s thoughts go somewhere entirely inappropriate. Dean’s eyes flicked from the keys on the floor to the keyhole on the door and it quickly became apparent what had happened to upset the man so badly; the key had broken off in the lock.   
  
“You alright over there, sweetheart?” Dean drawled slowly, smirking to himself as the guy jumped in surprise and spun around to face him. Dean’s smirk slipped slightly as his new neighbor caught him in his steely blue gaze, eyes narrowed as though calculating if Dean were a potential threat or not.     
  
Dean fixed a winning smile on his face and stepped forward across the hall, picking up the broken keys from the man’s feet. “Dropped something,” he joked, extending his arm to hand them back.   
  
The man in front of him stared at the keys before slumping to the floor with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter, they’re useless now anyway,” he mumbled. And even though Dean could hear the despair in his tone, the deep gravel of the guy’s voice still sent a shock of heat through him. “Just my luck, now I’m going to need to pay to get someone out here to replace the lock as well.” 

As the stranger spoke, his face crumpled and something inside of Dean protested at this gorgeous man looking so beaten down. Dean dropped down to sit beside his new neighbor, peering into the cat carrier curiously.    
  
“So who’s this?” Dean asked softly, drawing the blue eyed man’s attention to the increasingly unhappy animal inside it.   
  
“Huh?” The man tilted his head to the side in confusion, squinting at Dean’s face for a moment before following his gaze, “Oh! This is Misha.”   
  
“Hi, Misha,” Dean grinned into the carrier, meeting the furious amber gaze of a black and white cat. “I’m Dean, I live across the hall.”   
  
The tension eased from the blue-eyed man’s posture a little and he leaned back against the door, turning to face Dean and extending his hand. “I’m Castiel Novak,” he said softly, introducing himself. “You can call me Cas. It’s nice to meet you, Dean. I’d invite you in but...” Castiel threw his hands up helplessly and shrugged.   
  
Dean let out a quiet chuckle, pushing himself to his feet and extending a hand to Castiel, “Come on Cas, let’s see what we can do about getting you into your new home.”    
  
Castiel frowned at him in confusion but took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, leaving his suitcase, coat and the cat carrier where they sat on the floor by his door. “Okay?”   
  
“Grab Misha and your bag, Cas. We’ll put them in my apartment for now. I gotta duck downstairs and grab some tools and stuff from my car,” Dean explained, scooping up Castiel’s coat and tossing it over his own couch as he grabbed his keys, waiting while Castiel did as he suggested.   
  
Dean watched as Misha struggled to turn around in his carrier and was sure he saw a hint of blue peeking out from below the cat’s tail where it was pressed down in the close quarters.    
  
“Alright, I’m ready,” Castiel announced, drawing the other man’s attention away from the cat carrier and Dean grinned.   
  
“Alright Cas, let’s go grab what we need and while we’re down in the garage I’ll introduce you to my Baby.” Dean led the way down the staircase, expertly dodging the creaky steps that Castiel just walked straight over, unconcerned.   
  
“Your girlfriend?” Castiel probed lightly, making Dean laugh.   
  
“Nah, sweetheart, my baby is my car.” Dean grinned, turning his head to call back over his shoulder, “No girlfriend. No boyfriend either, for that matter.” He winked and started walking again, ignoring the slight flush on Castiel’s cheeks.

When they arrived at the lowest level, Dean reached for Castiel’s keys and pointed out to the other man which one he needed for the garage, grinning at the indignant sniff Castiel gave to the broken stub of his apartment key.

Dean led the way across the lot to the Impala, beaming with pride at Castiel’s low whistle. “This is yours?” Castiel asked, circling around the whole car to get a good look.   
  
“Yep. Restored her with my old man in high school; when he died, he left her to me.” Dean ran his hand across the trunk before stepping back to pop it open and grab his tools. “Alright, hold onto this for me,” he said as he pushed the tool bag into Castiel’s hands and slammed the trunk closed again, making for the truck this time.   
  
“Is this yours too?” Castiel asked, taking in the way the paint jobs matched.    
  
“My brother’s. Kid’s only 16 but he’s a pretty good driver already,” Dean explained, pulling out the bag with the hinges and locks and tossing it to Castiel as well before tugging out a fold-able dolly and loading the door and wood onto it and strapping it down. When he was done he looked up to find Castiel staring at him, dumbfounded. “What?”   
  
“Why do you have a  _ door _ ?” Castiel asked, blue eyes blown wide in confusion.   
  
“Because your door is shit, Cas,” Dean said simply, shrugging as though it was obvious, leading the way back across the garage and maneuvering back through the door, leaving Castiel no choice but to follow.

They made it back upstairs relatively quickly, considering how much they struggled with the door and lumber. Dean was very thankful for the impulse purchase of the dolly. He didn’t want to imagine how much time it would have taken for them to actually  _ carry _ the things up the stairs.   


“Dean,” Castiel started, eyeing his door, “I can just change the locks, you don’t have to use this door you clearly had for yourself, my door is fine, it’s just the lock.”   
  
Dean shot him a flat look and leaned the dolly against the wall, out of the way. “Cas, firstly, I actually bought this shit for your apartment anyway, because I saw all your nice stuff getting brought in and figured you’d like to keep it. And secondly,” Dean stopped speaking, stepped over in front of the apartment door and aimed a solid kick at the center of it.    
  
Castiel flinched at the loud thud, followed by the crack of splintering wood. He looked over at the remains of his door, taking in the large crack up the middle before Dean drew his attention to the door frame.    
  
“Dean!” Castiel hissed, taking in the damaged door frame, the wood around the lock was split and shattered into large splinters, and the hinges had pulled clear out of the aged timber, screws rusted and bent. Dean looked over at Castiel smugly, eyebrows raised as he waited for Cas to finish his thought. “What do I need to do?” Castiel sighed, leaning down to pick up the ruined door.   
  
Dean grinned and produced a hammer and a pry bar from his tool bag. “First we peel off the molding and pull the carpet back so we can get to the actual frame.”    
  
Castiel accepted the pry bar and started removing the damaged molding, standing off to one side so that Dean could work on the carpet. Dean worked quickly, and soon had the door stop set aside, and had helped Castiel with the molding before they started on the frame itself, tearing it all the way back to the studding, leaving the shims intact to keep the new frame from warping.    
  
They’d gotten it all pulled down and Dean had started measuring the timber for the new frame, before he stopped and tossed his own keys to Castiel, suggesting that he collect his things, and his cat.    
  
“Oh no!” Castiel felt guilty. Misha had been in his cage for the entire flight and then he’d spent the past hour or so still in his cage, alone in a strange apartment. “Poor Misha.”   
  
When Castiel entered Dean’s apartment it was quiet. The second he stepped into view of the cat carrier however, Misha started to meow pitifully, demanding his freedom.    
  
“I’m sorry, Mish,” Castiel soothed, collecting his suitcase and coat before picking up the carrier by the handle and making his way back through the living room to the door, a voice behind him made him jump so badly that he almost dropped the cage.   
  
“Need a hand?”    
  
Castiel spun around, heart thumping in his chest. “I’m not a burglar,” he promised, holding his cat aloft as proof. “Just getting my cat.”    
  
The boy in front of him laughed and raised his hands placatingly, “I know, there’s no way you would have gotten in here unless you had a key.”   
  
Castiel huffed and mumbled under his breath, “Unlike  _ my _ apartment.”   
  
The boy laughed again and reached out to take Misha’s carrier and extend a hand, “I’m Sam.”   
  
“Castiel.” They shook hands and Castiel was surprised to find the teenager held onto his hand a little longer than strictly necessary, a speculating look on his face.   
  
“Angelic name?” Sam asked finally, releasing Castiel’s hand but keeping hold of Misha.   
  
“Yes, actually,” Castiel said softly, dropping his gaze. “My family was very religious.”    
  
“Makes sense.” Sam agreed with a shrug, stepping forward and opening the apartment door, holding it open for Castiel to pass with his suitcase, following behind with the keys and Misha’s cage. “Hey Dean, nearly done?”   
  
“Hiya Sammy!” Dean said cheerfully without looking up from where he was measuring the positioning for the strike plate. “Not really, still got to get this drawn up and cut out, pass the chisel please?”   
  
Castiel admired the work that Dean had already completed during the short time he was in the other man’s apartment, this new door frame definitely looked sturdier than the previous one, though he mentally panicked as he realized that the high quality materials would have probably cost Dean quite a bit, and he definitely would need to find a way to repay him.   
  
Misha yowling plaintively drew him out of his mental panic and he excused himself, stepping around behind Dean, decidedly not thinking about how his crotch had brushed against Dean’s shoulder where the other man was crouched down to chisel out the spot for the latch plate, and finally walking into his apartment.   
  
He sucked in a breath. Yes the apartment was small, yes it was cheap and it was in a state of god awful disrepair, but it was  _ his.  _ As Castiel looked around, taking in the way his furniture looked in the room, he heard Dean step up behind him. “Yuck, Cas did you even inspect this place before you moved in?”    
  
Castiel spun around, offended and ready to defend his new home but, before he could open his mouth to respond, Dean grinned, and something inside Castiel’s stomach flipped, driving all thoughts from his head. He could only stare stupidly as Dean circled around on the spot, “There’s a lot to fix in here, good thing you got me as a neighbor then, eh, sweetheart?”   


“Huh?” Castiel closed his mouth with a snap, squinting at Dean curiously, “What do you mean?”   
  
Dean produced a business card, seemingly from nowhere, “Winchester Renovations,” Castiel read out loud. “You run your own business?” he asked, staring up at the green-eyed man in shock. He was sure that Dean was around his age, which would make him twenty five at the oldest.   
  
“Yep.” Dean grinned proudly, “Bought the place across the hall with Dad’s life insurance, and found I had enough left to start it up. Business has been good so,” he shrugged and glanced away, before looking back over at Castiel, “yeah I can help, I’ll even give you a good rate.” Dean winked and Castiel found himself blushing.    
  
“Thanks, Dean,” he stammered, flustered. Misha yowled again and he tore his eyes away. “I’m going to put him into the bedroom,” he announced, glad for the excuse to get out of the heat of Dean’s gaze, and the conversation.    
  
Dean eyed Castiel as he left,  _ What was that about?  _ he mused, wondering if Castiel was put out by his flirting. Dean shrugged and turned back to his task, attaching the new handle and swinging the door back and forth on its new hinges.   
  
“Shut it!” Castiel’s voice cried from the hallway and Dean slammed the door closed in time to see a black blur crash into it with a dull thud.   
  
“Oh, Misha,” Dean muttered, bursting into uncontrollable laughter as the cat glared angrily at the door before taking off further into the apartment at a run, a flash of blue catching the light at the base of his tail as he ran.   
  
Castiel stared after the angry cat and turned back around to Dean with a sigh. “Apparently I need a new bedroom door as well,” he said softly.   
  
Dean turned his attention back to Castiel, _ for a second he was sure he saw… _ he shook his head to clear it and grinned, “We should probably make a list of everything you need to do and work out priorities.”   
  
Castiel sighed and flopped down onto his leather couch, “I should probably start by selling some of my things to get the money to pay you for the door,” he mumbled in defeat.

“Sell your…?” Dean’s mouth dropped open, “dude why would you need to sell your things?”    
  
“Because I spent everything buying this place and getting here?” Castiel snapped, hiding his head in his hands. “Thank you for your help, Dean. Please let me know how much I owe you?”   
  
Dean ran his hand over his face and tugged at his hair in frustration, something inside of him hated to see Castiel so downtrodden. “Do you have a job?” he asked, the sudden shift in subject causing Castiel to snap his head up, startled.   
  
“I, uh. No,” Castiel admitted, cocking his head to the side as he examined Dean, trying to understand the point of the question, “but I will sell my television tomorrow and get you the money as soon as I can.”   
  
Dean ignored the second part of that sentence, charging forward with his questioning, “What do you do?”   


Castiel straightened up, “I am an accountant, I just got my degree and I had been working at my father’s company before--” he cut himself off and looked up at Dean, pleading with his eyes for the other man not to press, not yet.    
  
Dean looked at him with understanding eyes that seemed to see right through Castiel and into the heart of things, “Is that what you want to do?”

“Huh?” Castiel blinked at him dumbly, “what I want to do?” Truthfully he hadn’t actually thought about what he wanted to do for work, he’d just assumed that once he got away from his family that everything would fall into place, how stupid he had been. “I don’t know, I haven’t ever been asked that, I was always meant to follow my father’s footsteps.”   
  
“Well,” Dean said slowly, “if you need money while you think of something that you actually want to do, I could use a bookkeeper. I didn’t realize so much paperwork and numbers would be a part of running my own business. I’ll call us square on the door and even give you an employee discount on anything else you need done _ and _ ,” Dean wiggled his eyebrows with a grin, “I’ll even pay you.”    
  
Castiel let all his breath out in a whoosh, eyes widening in shock at the offer even as he started to turn it down, “Dean, I… I wouldn’t want to--”    
  
“Cas,” Dean interrupted firmly, “look, sweetheart, I know what it’s like to be starting out with nothing, no job, no family. It’s hard as hell and you think you should be able to do it all yourself, but you can’t. Let me help you. Besides, it won’t be a long term thing, just until you get something else, you got the skills and I have a need. You’ll be helping me out too.”   
  
Castiel shook his head with a small smile, “Thank you Dean. I will start looking for work tomorrow, please let me know where you need me to be to look through your accounts.”   
  
Dean grinned, “They’re in my apartment, I work out of the back of Sammy’s truck and keep everything in the extra bedroom.”   
  
Castiel chuckled, “Well, that saves me on the commute I guess.”   
  
While they were saying their goodbyes he caught sight of Misha getting ready to make a break for the door and stepped out into the hall so that Castiel could close the door behind him. “Thanks Cas, I’ll see you tomorrow, any time after ten. I’m not needed on site until Wednesday so I’ll be here after I drop Sammy to school.”    
  
“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel replied with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for all your help, and the job.”   
  
“No worries, sweetheart,” Dean winked, the light flush on Castiel’s face as he closed the door prompting Dean’s heart to thump erratically in his chest. The dull thud as Misha headbutted the door in his bid for freedom drew a snort of laughter from Dean and he shook his head, letting himself back into his own apartment.

He flopped down onto his bed, sinking into the memory foam with an appreciative groan before reaching over and grabbing his laptop, set on watching some porn before he passed out for the night. The video had barely started with the screen focused on a sparkling pink butt plug, nestled comfortably between deliciously curved cheeks, a dripping cock hanging hard and heavy below it, when something clicked in Dean’s brain.    
  
“Oh my god,” Dean hissed, sitting up straight in bed, porn and erection forgotten as he suddenly caught onto what was so strange about the flashes of blue he’d seen on Castiel’s cat all evening. Dean found himself leaping out of his bed and trudging back over to Castiel’s apartment before he even realized what he was doing.    
  
“Dean?” Castiel was wearing adorable bee print flannel sleep pants, and-- Dean’s brain stopped functioning as he registered that Castiel was shirtless, words driven out of his head as his mouth went dry and his eyes roamed across all of that exposed skin. “Is everything alright, Dean?”   
  
Dean snapped back to himself and looked up at Castiel’s face, brows furrowed in concern as he stood, blocking the gap in the door with his body as best as he could to prevent Misha from making a run for it. “Why does your cat have a butt plug?” he blurted, face growing scarlet.

Castiel blinked, his face registering shock as the door slid out of his hand and he stepped backwards. “Excuse me?” he asked, sure he’d misheard.   
  
“A butt plug,” Dean pressed. “I kept seeing glimpses of it all day and it didn’t click until just now.”    
  
“Dean, my cat doesn’t have a butt plug, where would you even get that idea?” Castiel gestured for Dean to step into the apartment, not really wanting to be discussing  _ butt plugs _ in the hallway.   
  
“Cas I saw it,” he insisted once the door was closed behind them.  “What, does Misha have anal gland issues or something?”    
  
“There’s nothing wrong with Misha’s anal glands,” Castiel snapped, confused and disgusted by the topic of conversation. “What the hell, Dean?”   
  
“Dude. Your cat, I saw it.” Dean was beginning to feel stupid, and kind of like he’d screwed up any chance with his hot new employee/neighbor.   
  
“Dean, I am quite certain my cat does not have a butt plug.” Castiel stood and, for a terrifying moment, Dean thought that he was going to be asked to leave. Instead Castiel headed for the bedroom, clicking his tongue. Dean cautiously followed behind, unsure whether he was welcome in this part of the apartment. 

Castiel caught Misha right as Dean entered the bedroom, the blue eyed man stood and turned around triumphantly, “See Dean, there’s no butt plu-- what the hell is  _ that?” _ __  
__  
Castiel’s eyes widened as he took in something that most definitely  _ looked _ like a butt plug on his cat’s anus. Misha wriggled in his hold and the blue gem moved with him, prompting Castiel to let out a sigh of relief when he realized that it was actually something attached to Misha’s tail. Not inside of the cat’s ass but, instead, hanging down over the hole and looking exactly like a kitty butt-plug.    
  
“What the hell Cas?” Dean demanded, watching as Castiel yanked it off and placed Misha back down onto the floor, the cat shooting him an affronted look before he bolted from the room.    
  
“Gabriel,” Castiel hissed, glaring at the ornament that had been hung on his cat’s tail and led his hot new neighbor/boss to believe that his cat had a butt plug. Castiel was mortified, avoiding Dean’s gaze until the other man chuckled.    
  
“Hey Cas,” he huffed around his laughter while he peered at the gemstone in Castiel’s hand, “it matches your eyes.”   
  
Castiel groaned and would have buried his face in his hands if not for the fact that he still held something that had sat against his cat’s asshole the entire day. The thought had him stalking across the room to dump the offending item into the trash before he fled into the bathroom and scrubbed his hands, Dean’s laughter following him down the hallway.   
  
“So who’s Gabriel?” Dean asked from the bathroom doorway as Castiel turned off the tap.   
  
“My brother,” Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes. “A parting prank no doubt, something to remember him by.” Castiel’s put out look had Dean laughing again, hanging onto the door frame to keep himself upright.   
  
“Well it was definitely funny,” he wheezed, ignoring the half-hearted glare Castiel threw at him.   
  
“Stop laughing at me. Go to bed, Dean,” Castiel snapped moodily, stalking from the bathroom.   
  
“Now, now,” Dean tsked, following behind with a grin. “That’s not how we do it, gotta have dinner first.”    
  
“Dean,” Castiel tried to look stern but Dean’s smile was infectious and he found himself grinning along.   
  
“Alright, so it’s decided,” Dean announced, making his way to the apartment door. “First, you come work for me, then you apply for a job you actually  _ want _ to do, then I’m taking you to dinner.” He winked and threw an obnoxious leer at Castiel for added measure, “sound good?”   
  
“Did you just ask me out?” Castiel asked, enjoying their banter but wanting to be sure they were on the same page.   
  
“Yep!” Dean confirmed, before walking out the door with a cheerful, “see you tomorrow, sweetheart!”   
  
Castiel grinned and watched him leave, torn between getting revenge on his trickster brother or sending him a gift basket. Maybe he’ll send flowers, but include an actual butt plug, something with an amber gem to match  __ Gabe’s eyes.


End file.
